


monday afternoons

by seijuro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Florist AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijuro/pseuds/seijuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started on a Monday, as most things often did. Midorima told him it was going to be a very eventful day for Nijimura’s sign, but he never would have thought that Midorima could have been <em>right</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	monday afternoons

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted (again) from bps @ tumblr! for some reason, when i submitted it, the last line was cut off? (also im so sorry for posting these all at once but i do want them on ao3, and if i put it off, i'll never end up posting these ;w;)
> 
> written according to [this](http://klissmequick.tumblr.com/post/108538203511/otpprompts-imagine-person-a-is-a-florist-and) prompt
> 
> tumblr: seijuurouakashi  
> twitter: akanijis

It started on a Monday, as most things often did. Midorima told him it was going to be a very eventful day for Nijimura’s sign, but he never would have thought that Midorima could have been  _right._

Nijimura hated Mondays. Mondays were getting up early with heavy limbs and heavier eye bags; Mondays were the awful space between weekend and weekday; Mondays were the days he needed the most sleep, but unfortunately couldn’t get it.

Everything about Mondays screamed  _bad_ and  _awful_  and  _unworthy of existence_ , and this Monday was nothing different. W

hen he woke up and brushed his teeth, a feeling pooled in the warmth of his stomach, but it was gone before he could identify it as inherently good or bad. Putting the toothbrush back in its container, Nijimura felt everything from his fingertips to his toes tingling as dictated by The Feeling. Nijimura despised Mondays, but more than that, he despised the feeling that he was waiting for something to happen.

He blamed Midorima.

*

The only good thing about Mondays, if there was such a thing to begin with, was that it meant the shop was slow. Valentine’s Day had already rolled in and left, and along with it, everyone who might have wanted to buy flowers. Nijimura spent most of his time lounging around at the front, waiting for a customer or the tell-tale jangle of the bell on the door that never came. He supposed he was grateful for it; as things stood, as  _he_ stood with the Monday feeling and something  _worse,_ he wouldn’t have been able to handle a crowd of people. He’d come to notice that the students who came over from the high school down the street were generally the worst. They always walked in with no intention of buying anything, and that wouldn’t have bothered him if they weren’t so damn  _loud_. He was still trying to recover from the last time they treated his shop as a playground.

The flowers sitting in their pots on the shelves drooped, shaking their heads. Nijmura did not blame them; the shop had its Monday smell, and he’d forgotten the air freshener at home. Even the flowers were not strong enough to wipe out the Monday smell in its entirety.

“I know,” Nijimura said to the flowers in a roundabout attempt to comfort them. “I know.”

“Excuse me?”

Nijimura nearly flipped over the counter in surprise when he saw a boy standing in front of him. He was wearing a uniform different from the high school down the street, and the folder in his arms had the name  _Akashi Seijuurou_ on it in neat, compact writing.

“Hey! How can I help you?” It was a Monday, and one of the (new!) customers had seen him talking to the flowers. He was doomed. “Anything you’re looking for?”

“Not in particular,” Akashi said, looking around the shop. His uniform was neat and free of any wrinkles from the sheen of his tie to his pant cuffs. Nijimura, who probably looked like a local bum, was impressed. “I’ve never been here before, so I thought I would at least take a look around.”

“Take your time.” Nijimura went back to resting on the counter, trying his best to stay awake. “It’s not exactly busy today.”

Akashi smiled politely. “Thank you.” He moved with the same grace his clothes possessed, but he always had a look on his face that told Nijimura he never stopped thinking.

Clearing his throat, Nijimura said, “You’re wearing a school uniform, right? Plus, you said you’ve never been here before, so…” He cleared his throat again. Damned Mondays. “What school?”

Stopping in front of a vase of daylilies, Akashi reached out to touch the petals. “It’s a college. Rakuzan.”

 _Oh,_  Nijimura thought. He heard of Rakuzan: the name alone was enough to strike fear into the hearts of any college student. It was a school as prestigious as it was expensive (a week at Rakuzan probably cost more than all of Nijimura’s life savings, but then again, that wasn’t saying much). Looking at Akashi again, he wasn’t too surprised he attended.  _Rich people._ “Gotcha. Why’d you decide to stop by?”

Akashi had moved on to another vase of daylilies. He was turned around and Nijimura could not see the expression on his face. He wondered if that was deliberate. “I finished violin lessons early, and my…chauffeur won’t be coming for another half-hour.”

He was the definition of classy rich boy, and Nijimura would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. “Makes sense.” It took him a few moments to realize all Akashi had been looking at were daylilies. “Daylilies?”

Akashi’s hand stilled. “Yes.” In another moment, he was halfway to the door. All Nijimura had done was blink. “I believe my chauffeur is on his way, and it would be impolite if I made him wait. Thank you for talking with me.”

 _That was quick._ The bell danced on its place above the door as Akashi left, and the urge to take a nap was getting stronger and stronger.

“So,” Nijimura said to the flowers. “Think he likes me?”

It wasn’t until he started closing up shop that he realized Midorima had never directly told him if it was a  _good_ or  _bad_ _s_ ort of eventful.

*****

Akashi came back the next day, the same time as before. He nodded at Nijimura in greeting and was back to looking at the daylilies. There were more people than yesterday (which, again, wasn’t saying much), and among them was an obnoxious couple. They were crowded around the roses, nuzzling each other and giggling. Nijimura would have snapped at them, but he wasn’t exactly in any place to chase customers away.

“Got out of violin lessons early again?”

Akashi looked at him, then at the daylilies, then back to him. “Yes. My chauffeur is also busy today, and I have more time to kill.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of chauffeur to me.” He turned away from Akashi and to the couple who’d migrated from the rose corner to the front. They were, unsurprisingly, buying a bouquet of roses.

“This rarely happens. I’m not worried.” Akashi glanced at other flowers as if making a crucial decision before returning to the daylilies. “Besides, he assured me it would not happen again.”

Nijimura thought of Akashi in a fancy car yelling at a middle-aged man for being late. The thought was more reassuring than it should have been. “That’s nice.”

“Agreed,” Akashi said.

He was still in the shop by the time both daylight and other customers began to filter out. Nijimura doodled on a piece of scrap paper. “Your chauffeur must be damn busy.”

“I don’t think so,” said Akashi, turning towards the door. “In fact, he’s just arrived.”

*

Akashi dropping by became a routine. After weeks of it happening, Nijimura had been able to notice that he always came to the shop thirty minutes after four. It was a little curious that his chauffeur was ‘busy’ every damn day regardless of whether Akashi wanted to be picked up early or not, but the thought that Akashi rewired his schedule to accommodate flower shop visiting times was a  _little_ too arrogant. It didn’t stop him from thinking of the possibility, but Nijimura prided himself on being realistic.

“How are your violin lessons going, by the way?” Nijimura said. It was, of course, a Monday, and they had about ten minutes before Akashi left. He visited and left every day at the same time, and it was kind of sweet. Kind of.

“Good.” Akashi had grown more adventurous in terms of looking at the flowers, and he wandered around, looking at everything from daylilies to petunias. “How is your shop doing?”

Nijimura let out a groan, which Akashi answered with a shake of his head. “Same old, same old. Easter’s coming up soon. That’ll be fun.”

Akashi looked sympathetic. “I hope you don’t get trampled.”

Nijimura wondered if it would be a good idea to collapse then and there, and quickly decided against it. “Me neither. That’d be pretty unfortunate.”

“Maybe a little,” Akashi said, and Nijimura clutched his chest.

“Ouch.”

*****

Midorima—speak of the devil, Nijimura thought—swung by the following week when Akashi was still in the shop. They gave each other a polite nod (it was a rich boy thing, Nijimura declared mentally) before Midorima rushed towards the counter at a speed that almost scared him right out of his pants.

“Rakuzan,” Midorima said, as if that would explain things. It didn’t.

“What about it? All rich, smart kids go to Rakuzan, right?”

Midorima took a moment to think. “Most. What is a  _Rakuzan_ student doing in your shop?” He pushed up his glasses and began evaluating Akashi from head to toe. Nijimura made a mental note to apologize to him later.

“I’ll pretend not to take offense to that.”

“You shouldn’t,” Midorima said. “It’s the truth.”

“Why are you here?” Nijimura hissed. If he was on the other side of the counter, he would have elbowed Midorima in the gut until he fell over. “You’re going to scare the customers away.”

“Customer,” Midorima said without missing a beat. “That’s singular.”

“Don’t ignore my question.”

Pushing up his glasses again, Midorima cleared his throat as his face took on a solemn look. “I was reading your horoscope earlier today, and began fearing for your life. I wanted to warn you in advance.”

Nijimura was not convinced. “Why were you reading my horoscope?”

“We have the same star sign.”

“Oh.”

Before Nijimura could ask, Midorima said, “I, however, am not concerned for my well-being, as I am  _extraordinarily_ prepared for the event that will take place today.”

“The only bad thing that’s happened all day is you showing up.”

Midorima ignored him. “Your horoscope— _our horoscope_ _-_ -says something life-changing will happen today. I brought you one of my spare lucky items.”

Nijimura held out his hand, in which Midorima dropped a small object before rushing out without another word. Nijimura had grown used to it; it was a nice sentiment that Midorima was “concerned” enough to visit.

Nijimura looked into his open palm, and a miniature violin looked back.

*

The next time Akashi visited, Nijimura said, “Can I ask you something?”

Akashi looked at him from the entrance before approaching the front desk. Easter came and went as it pleased, and the heat and sun of mid-April had Akashi’s tie off. He had his uniform jacket in his arms instead of around them, and the button-up shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. “Of course.” He leaned against the front of the counter, staring into open space.

“Your chauffeur always picks you up around the same time as the bus schedule.”

Akashi stared. “That isn’t a question.”

“I guess not, but I figured I’d ask why.”

Akashi spoke as if he was talking to a very small child. “It’s simply more convenient for the both of us.”

He wasn’t going to try and force anything out of Akashi, but it was something that’d been eating him alive. “You don’t have to lie about anything, yeah? Look at me. I’m practically a bum.”

Voice carefully level, Akashi said, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.” When he looked towards the door, Nijimura swore he was nervous, but it was more likely that it was a trick of the light. “I believe my chauffeur got here early today. Good day.”

The shop was quiet and empty without him, and even the flowers would not speak to Nijimura.

Staring at the almost accusing daylilies, Nijmura sighed. “Not you too.”

*****

Putting an  _Out to Lunch_ sign on the door, Nijimura closed the door of the shop and immediately put his hands in his pockets. Nevermind that it was fifteen minutes past five; Nijimura was sure nobody cared, anyway. It’d been so sunny it was almost blinding earlier, but April brought with it an almost tidal wave of rain. Nijimura looked at his hands and then up at the sky, noting that it was still only sprinkling. In a few minutes, it would change to showers.

Akashi sat on a bench without anything to cover his head but his Rakuzan jacket. Nijimura promised to flick him in the forehead for that later. When he sat next to him, Akashi said nothing and continued to stare off broodily into open space.

Nijimura shrugged his jacket off and draped it over Akashi’s shoulders, who made no effort to take it off. If anything, he seemed to shrink further inside it. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, and when the silence broke, it was because of Akashi. “I missed my bus,” he said.

Nijimura nodded in understanding. “Wanna talk about it?”

Akashi pulled Nijimura’s hood over his head and hid the lower half of his face below the collar, revealing nothing but his eyes. “Not especially.”

“That’s okay,” said Nijimura, standing up. He offered Akashi a hand. “We should go to the shop, though. You’ll catch a cold.”

Akashi took it.

Vaguely, Nijimura remembered the miniature violin still untouched in his back pocket.

*****

Inside the shop, Nijimura shut the door and put the  _Closed_ sign up. When Akashi voiced his disapproval, he only shook his head firmly, saying, “Nobody will drop by anyway. It’s not a big deal.”

Akashi’s frown did not go away. “I suppose.”

He pulled out a chair and offered it to Akashi, who gladly took a seat in it. Although they were indoors, he still hadn’t done anything to take off Nijimura’s jacket. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” After a few minutes in the back, he pushed a cup of hot chocolate towards Akashi.

“No,” Akashi said, taking a sip. As Nijimura predicted, the sprinkle outside had switched to showers. They both listened to it beat against the glass. “Where did you get this, by the way?” He held up the mug of hot chocolate.

Shrugging, Nijimura looked for a good excuse and found none. “Sometimes I get bored and start craving chocolate. I have a machine back there, and packs of hot chocolate powder.” He grinned. “Makes nights here worthwhile.”

Nodding, Akashi sniffed it. Nijimura was slightly offended. “I didn’t take you for the type.” He huddled further into Nijimura’s coat.  _That should be illega_ l, Nijimura thought.

“You serious? Who doesn’t like hot chocolate?”

“I’m not too fond of it,” Akashi admitted.

Nijimura stared at him as if he’d committed a serious crime. In a way, he had. “But you’re drinking it.”

“Only because you made it.” He put the cup down. “And I don’t wish to trouble you anymore.”

“It’s fine,” Nijimura said. “Really.”

A few minutes later, Akashi said, “I’m not rich. At all.” Seeing Nijimura’s expression, he said, “I got into Rakuzan on a scholarship. The violin lessons are part of it.”

Did it make sense? Of course it did. Nijimura scooted closer to him. “You don’t have to lie about that.”

“Maybe not here,” Akashi said, picking the mug back up, “but in Rakuzan, it’s different. When you become so accustomed to lying about something like that, it’s difficult to stop.”

“Are you ashamed?”

“A little bit.” He folded his hands in his lap. “I apologize. I know it was silly.”

“Don’t be,” Nijimura said. He didn’t clarify whether he meant for being ashamed or being sorry, and Akashi didn’t ask. “Do you want a hug?”

Nodding weakly, Akashi accepted the hug with open arms. The jacket was a little wet from the rain, but he was still warm. It was alright, Nijimura thought. It was more than alright.

Waiting for the silence once more, Nijimura said, “If it’s any consolation, the flowers still like you. They told me.”

Akashi laughed, and it was muffled against Nijimura’s chest. “That helps a lot, thank you.”

“You said you missed your bus, right? I don’t mind being your chauffeur.” Backtracking quickly, Nijimura said, “If you don’t, I mean.”

“I don’t.”

*

Akashi’s house was a small, comfortable apartment that was walking distance from Rakuzan. Akashi was about to leave the car when he paused for a moment, turning to Nijimura. “Do you want this back?” he said, gesturing to the jacket.

“Nah. You can keep it.”

He did.

*

“Yes, yes, Rose and Margaret,” Nijimura said, picking up the watering can and walking out from behind the counter. He felt the urge to celebrate; whenever he was at his spot in the shop, there were only two instances when he was not behind the counter. First, when he entered the shop, and second, when he left it. In all honesty, he was glad for the movement: it was only May, but it felt hot enough to be the middle of August. “I’m bringing the pail.” Rose and Margaret beamed at him.

“Aren’t those tulips?” Akashi walked in, and the bell jangled behind him. His eyebrows were furrowed, and it made him look something like a pouty child. That was cuter than it probably should have been. He always chose the best time to walk in, Nijimura noticed.

“Your point is?” Almost lovingly, he watered Rose and Margaret, taking a moment to coo at them. “I know I’ve been neglecting you, but…”

Approaching him, Akashi put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Those are flowers.”

Nijimura recoiled. “They are living beings!”

“I can’t speak for your beloved flowers, but if I was a tulip named Rose, I’d be really offended.”

Nijimura stroked the tulips. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not cute enough to be a tulip, anyway.”

“Good riddance,” Akashi said, walking towards the daylilies. “I’d much rather be a daylily.”

“Those are your favourite?” Walking towards Akashi, he stood behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Akashi shrugged him off playfully. “Figured you’d be a rose kind of guy.”

“They were my mother’s favourite.”

 _Were?_ “Do you want to get a bouquet for her? I could give you a discount.”

Akashi stilled for a moment. “Thank you, but I can’t exactly afford them.” Then: “I already visited her grave this week.”

 _Oh._  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It happened years ago.” Putting his hands in his pockets, Akashi glanced at him. “I’m leaving early today. I have a violin recital.”

“Seriously?” Nijimura was quiet for a few moments before he broke into a grin. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Akashi returned his smile. After a minute: “I shouldn’t have even dropped by here first, but I wanted to see you.”

Nijimura, who for the life of him could not figure out how Akashi could say that with a straight face, wanted to die. “I don’t want you to be late. Go and catch your bus.”

Surprisingly, Akashi listened. “Alright.”

Before he was out the door, Nijimura grabbed him gently by the arm and slid a white daylily behind his ear. “Do well, yeah?”

Akashi covered his ear with his hand, eyes wide for a second. “Of course.”

*

Midorima had the fortune of visiting when Akashi was also in the shop. He took one look at Akashi, then at Nijimura, then back at Akashi before approaching Nijimura at the counter.

“He likes you.”  _Of course_ _._  Only Midorima would point out the sheer obvious after months of not speaking to him.

“Yeah.” Nijimura twirled a daylily between his fingers and stopped leaning against the counter to stretch. He stared at Midorima before shaking his head in disappointment. “Where have you been?”

“Somewhere more important than a flower shop run by a bum,” Midorima snapped. After he was satisfied with insulting Nijimura, he said again, “He likes you.”

“Surprised?”

“That someone would like you? Very.” Midorima was in a suit, and Nijimura guessed he’d just gotten back from a business trip. The thought of Midorima angrily rushing into town just to visit was laughable. “He is of age, right?”

“Midorima. He’s a college student. I’m not that much older than he is.”

“Right.” The tension in Midorima’s shoulders eased. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or punch him square in the jaw. “Are you… you know?”

“No, we’re not.” Nijimura took a moment to thank whatever God out there had given him the patience to deal with Midorima.

“And why not?”

Reaching for the nearest can, he threw it at Midorima’s head. “I don’t want to rush things.”

Midorima’s gaze was calculating. That wasn’t a good sign, Nijimura thought. That definitely wasn’t a good sign. “I see.”

“Stay out of my business,” Nijimura said, but it came out like a plea. He supposed it was. In hindsight, it hardly mattered—Midorima didn’t listen to him all the same.

*

“Your friend approached me the other day,” Akashi said, leaning against the other side of the counter. His fingers went up to play with the tie. “He was very…odd.”

Nijimura vowed Midorima would not live to see tomorrow. “Sorry about that. What did he say?”

Akashi continued picking at his tie. “He told me you were single and in search of a boyfriend. He was very enthusiastic about the last part.”

Damn Midorima. Nijimura was certain the world would have been a better place if Midorima stuck to being a businessman and not a match maker. “He’s not exactly wrong.”

“Oh?” Akashi’s eyebrows went up.

“This shouldn’t be big news.” Nijimura flicked a crumb off the surface of the counter. Summer swept in; Nijimura was too cheap and couldn’t be bothered to add air condition to the shop (if anyone asked, which they did not, his excuse was that it upset the flowers), and any stragglers who stayed around hoping for a break from the heat cleared out. The warmth made days hazy and slow.

“It isn’t.” Akashi eyed him for some few moments before waltzing back off to the daylilies. They’d spent the last month dancing around each other, and though he didn’t want to push things, it was becoming a little infuriating. He considered the possibility that Midorima was right before quickly discarding it. Pigs would fly first.

Midorima gave him a call minutes after Akashi left. Nijimura was no firm believer in fate or anything of the sort, but there was no way it was coincidental. In a matter-of-fact manner, Midorima said, “This week is Cancer’s lucky week. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“You have one hour before I kick your ass into tomorrow. Better make good use of it.”

*****

It started on a Monday. Nijimura woke up on the first ring of his alarm (that was either a very good sign or a very bad one), looked in the mirror, and promised that he would not back out. He spent around four minutes mentally planning his will and just generally feeling bad for himself until he remembered he had a schedule to follow. Putting on his best suit, Nijimura hopped into his car and looked at himself in the mirror for a second time that day. There was, after all, no turning back.

The morning commute and its early red lights caught Nijimura like a net, and he arrived to the shop fifteen (he was going to kill Midorima and his lousy horoscopes for real this time) minutes late. He had never been more grateful for the generally dead mornings. Taking another ten minutes to mentally call Midorima every bad word he knew, Nijimura walked towards the daylilies and spent three more stroking their petals. “Wish me luck.”

**-**

It was a Monday, and Nijimura stood outside of the classroom, waiting as college students poured out. Many of them stopped and stared for a minute before continuing on their way. He didn’t blame them. After the last bits of them had finally trickled out, Nijimura peered inside. Akashi stood at his desk, gathering his things.

Even Akashi couldn’t mask the surprise in his voice. “Nijimura?”

“Hey.” He walked towards Akashi, hands behind his back. If Midorima was right at all, Akashi wouldn’t notice. He didn’t. “Aren’t you hot in that thing?”

Akashi took his jacket off (Nijimura noted fondly that it was his jacket, or at least used to be) and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Somewhat.”

“Of course you’d wear a jacket in the middle of the summer.” He dared to give Akashi another grin. “Like it that much?”

“I was cold.”

Nijimura recited every prayer he knew before offering the bouquet of daylilies to Akashi. “Wanna go out?”

There was quiet and the hum of the air conditioning before Akashi took the bouquet and smiled. That wasn’t good for his health at all. “I’ll think about it.”

They both knew it was a yes.


End file.
